A Journal

Monthly Archives: November 2013

I haven’t been spending a whole lot of time just by myself, which is new.

Having a boyfriend here really helps. Especially one that I’m so enthralled with. Never in a million years could I have told you that someday I’d be with Calvin. Never in a million years could I tell you how amazing it is.

Never in a million years could I describe how wonderful and terrifying it is to be with him.

I know I’m putting myself in a terrible position. I can’t find it within myself to love myself a majority of the time. I can’t help but wonder what he sees in me.

I also have this awful knowing that this is a very temporary relationship. I will enjoy it for as long as it lasts no doubt. But I can’t help but be distracted by the fact that he’s probably going away for graduate school next fall and that will more than likely be the end to our relationship.

Distracted is a good way to describe my life right now. I can’t believe I’m only now able to put a word to it. Jesus.

I’m unable to take care of myself and my life due to the distractions. Most of them are self-inflicted distractions too.

These distractions keep me from feeling the underlying emotions. The pain. The sadness. The fear.

I feel like I need to come to terms with these emotions. I just don’t know how.

My mom’s anniversary is coming up. It’s less than 2 weeks away.

Oh god.

It’s less than 2 weeks away.

I’m gonna try to not have a panic attack over that.

K. Awesome.

That sucks.

I just get so overwhelmed and I don’t know how to cope.

“Good coping skills are all you need, Victoria.” “You’re smart, I know you can do this.” “The hardest step is going to help, now you just have to help yourself.”

I think people really forget to question when people are really going for themselves or if they’re going for others.

I’m certainly not getting help because I feel like I need it.

I know I need it because others tell me I need it. I’m not doing any of this for myself. This whole living and breathing thing. It’s not my choice I feel. I do it for those around me. The times I feel like I’m happy are too surreal. I question if it’s really my life. It sounds stupid, but it’s my life and I don’t know how to handle it.

So I brush the feelings aside until I forget them. I’m forgetting everything.

I like black coffee. I smoke. I go part-time in school. I change majors 5 million times. I’m brash but rational. I think a lot.

I’m such a thinker.

As I get older, some things stay the same.

I write about everything. I get angry really quick, but deflate quickly as well. I love all kinds of music. Chocolate is my drug.

Words are beautiful paintings of thoughts. That’s why I love talking and writing so much. I have so many thoughts and I just want to display them in the most blunt way possible.

That’s why I listen to the music I do. People think because I’m a music major that the actual music would be the most important part to me. Surprisingly, I listen to music for the lyrics. The way that people can string thoughts together with a beautiful melody… it speaks levels. It’s the ultimate art – combining creativity and rational thoughts.

I love to create. It makes me feel more connected to things in life. Baking, making stupid bracelets, music, anything. I love to create.

I’m usually such a destructive person. It’s something a lot of people don’t see. I think that’s why I have such a difficult time having people take me and my great hate seriously. No one sees it.

I shouldn’t say that. An extremely select few do.

It’s a shock factor. Many can’t understand it. I hate it.

It makes me think so many other things are wrong with me. It makes me question what and who I really am. Is it really just a phase? Is this something everyone works through? Am I really just a positive person going through a difficult time that will pass? Is there really anything wrong with me?

But then people tell me that it isn’t common for people to want to cut when they’re extremely upset. It isn’t common for people to have no motivation to get out of bed due to feeling so overwhelmed and sad. It isn’t common for people to want to stop living. It isn’t common when things are going well.

My life is in a vicious cycle right now. I’m self-destructive and my greatest fear is letting people in and bringing them down with me.

I need to make a list. A list that I can confide in the people I most trust. Maybe then I’ll start to feel better about all this.

This Great Hate is all-consuming. It feasts upon anything I could have had.

I think beyond the scope of the standard mind.

You call me “silly”.

He told me to never stop being silly.

She tells me to not let that word become a trigger for me.

I don’t think anyone understands how much hate I have for myself.

This Great Hate picks me apart. It gives no warning. I stops at nothing to have me.

I have attempted to explain this all to you. I think you may understand a little bit now. But I have a difficult time telling you that some days, all I want to do is swallow pills or put a bullet through my head.

I wish you were enough. I wish I was enough. I know I will never be enough. But that’s what it’s supposed to be, right?

I was horrible today. I was crude and crass. I was everything that bothers you. I could see it on your face.

How could you even begin to think you could ever love me?

I’m sure you’re lying awake right now asking that question.

The urge is so incredibly strong to cut right now.

To “beat this”… get better, to “stabilize”, I have to stop.

But that means I have to want to get better.

At times like this, I feel like I don’t want to.

It’s this beast that just eats away at me constantly. I wish I could show you. Then I feel like I could be satisfied with your answer.

I feel like until you really see me for everything I am, I won’t believe that you want to be with me.

I’m so scared that once you really see me for everything I am, you’ll leave.

I can’t blame you though.

I had to convince you to be with me.

You see how much that distorts my thinking? You’re crazy. I’m crazy for convincing you. You’re crazy for going along with it.